On the Other Side of the Impasse
by QuasiOuster
Summary: The war is over and everyone is moving on. All except Madi and Silver. After weeks of silence, they must reconcile their futures on that fateful day on the hill. Post-finale scene.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: I do not own this show or the characters, and no profit will come of my mutterings.**_

 _ **I noticed that for pretty much every fandom in which I've written, I have one angsty story where my OTPs spend a fair amount of my word count having difficult but necessary conversations. So I'm glad to get this out of my system, and that the show presented such a perfect platform for it.**_

 _ **I wrote much of this story weeks ago after the finale. And then I sat on it so I could mull over the many issues it wrestles with, get some other perspectives, fiddle with how much I wanted to explore. There are a lot of ways to think about what happened between Silver and Madi in the finale and I've really enjoyed thinking about those angles and learning how others saw things as well. What came out of all that musing is just one interpretation of that.**_

 _ **Thanks so much for reading. And my thanks to those who've tipped your friendly fanfic writers in this fandom with reviews. I hope you "enjoy" the ride on this one, and feel free to share your impressions and thoughts.**_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Silver took a long last look at the sea and the horizon beyond it. He'd been perched in this spot for a while, thinking about Nassau and what lay ahead for the town he'd fought and nearly died for. He peered down into the crashing waves, contemplated how each lap ate at the cliffside, slowly eroding what appeared so solid underneath him. One day it would be unrecognizable, the result of the destruction, or evolution rather, that he could not now take his eyes off of.

The inevitability of where he found himself in this moment harkened a most depressing mood. Indulging a brief reflection of his life's journey, he acknowledged a stubborn insistence on refusing to shy away from the wretchedness of his current state. He accepted the almost mundaneness of these details as much as he reveled in the pleasurable ones. And any reflection on pleasure brought an image of Madi back into the foreground of his thoughts. Never far did notions of her linger.

Despite this, he'd vowed not to spend the entirety of his moments torturing himself over sweet musings of his dearest companion … even if she'd barely spoken a full sentence to him directly in weeks.

Not even a season had passed since he'd last stood in this spot, eager to wage war against the British and anyone else who stood in the way of his ordained purpose: protect his men, protect his captain, protect his allies; and most prominently, protect Madi and the life he'd begun imagining with her. Silver would return here when he needed the space of mood and thought, away from the responsibilities he'd taken on in a new home to which he'd devoted himself. For her, he would stop running and prove that he could be a partner worthy of her companionship. This spot, away from the guilt-tinged contentment of this new existence, made for a convenient shelter to ease the gnawing in his gut for wanting to affix himself to Madi's every whereabout until she had no choice but to accept him again.

That this spot reminded him of the other person he'd considered a companion and friend – still considered a friend – appeared fitting. If his and Madi's rift seemed a deep emotional one, he hoped the distance between him and Flint could only be defined as one of geography rather than rapport, or at least it would one day. Long John Silver's waiting destiny, realized at this very spot in some ways, struck Silver as both yesterday's memory and another lifetime ago. The world he'd imagined then had been so much more glorious, a sign in hindsight of its impossibility. He realized that now, as much good as it does him sitting alone with so many desires hanging in the balance.

On days like today when he made the arduous trek, he tried not to dwell long lest his maudlin temperament become a regular occurrence. God, he had enough on his mind.

Never before had he forced himself to such optimism as he did now, pinning his hopes on the ardor that had grabbed him by the throat in those first moments with Madi. This inevitable force he'd welcomed into his heart, and he'd expected it to triumph over all else that he'd been through in his life. Maybe this is why this spot, this cliff, those waves appealed to him as they did. As he considered which of her passions would prevail against the relentless tide overwhelming him right now, it would help him make sense of the possibilities. Would it be her anger? Her disappointment? Or their love and acceptance?

Silver afforded the sea – his only remaining companion at the moment – one last spare contemplation, standing up to leave as nimbly as his dexterity allowed.

* * *

When Madi crested the hill, she spotted Silver staring down into the water. From his steady gaze to his stillness against the strong breeze, he appeared to be pleading to the waters below to reveal every answer he'd sought in the weeks he'd insisted on traversing this terrain again. Even to her, this particular path seemed full of memories and unfulfilled promises; or perhaps this impression was only a reflection of her mood these days. Yet, as always, the sight of him invoked a rush of affection and excitement. A tightening anger in her stomach followed, invading those pure feelings before making space for the sadness.

Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she silenced her frustrations. No, she could not afford to descend into more of the emotional turmoil she'd been navigating these past weeks.

Silver had come here regularly since the pirates and chiefs had departed the island a month ago. It had become part of his routine. She suspected he had no idea that she paid attention to such things. After all, she had not spoken a word to him since their confrontation beyond a sentence or two of essential responses. However, she maintained knowledge of how he spent his time and where. Even if she'd had no interest in knowing his whereabouts – such was the heat of her ire with him – there were few secrets in a community as small as hers. In any event, news of his movements reached her whether she wanted the information or not: his assistance with the season's planting; his frequent participation in constructing housing for the newest freed slaves from Nassau; his casual return to daily conversations with elders who helped him to learn Madi's native tongue as well as the hybrid English spoken on the island.

In other words, he'd adjusted to this new life along with everyone else in the community, while simultaneously waiting out his days for her to notice him again. In many ways, he'd returned to that stranger in the cage whose eyes she felt stalking her every move, the dangerous attraction both frightening and exciting to her.

For her part, she found this new world – the world that the man before her helped shape – to be a surprisingly easy one in which to adapt herself.

Oh, she'd wept for hours following their argument. She'd wrung herself dry as mind and heart violently accepted the abrupt end to her fantasies of victories in the name of freedom for her people and the noble ideals for which her parents had both sacrificed so much. She wailed for the death of her dear Kofi, executed and discarded for his loyalty; of her men who had lost their lives in a crusade she had no choice in abandoning. Finally, as night settled across the camp and preparations were finalized for their new allies to move on, she silently cried over the man she loved so fiercely, who only a week before she thought gone forever and had mourned. Her pulse quickened remembering the power of that love rediscovered by way of a miracle. If only she'd known that such sweet reunion would heighten the sting of the trust needlessly thrown away so soon after.

Her mother had sat with her for hours, holding her, understanding her pain. That night and for many nights after, she waited for Madi to accept that the world had settled around her, gently imploring her to acknowledge what could not be changed. After the tears dried, a heavy melancholy replaced that initial despondency, even as those around her were brimming with excitement and the possibilities of a new existence lived in the open. And still her mother sat with her, supporting her and ushering her into this inevitable crossroads.

The decision to follow Silver today to a spot that filled her with such conflicting emotions reflected the duty she felt to repay her mothers hours upon weeks upon years of patient grooming to become a woman fit to lead others by first knowing her own mind and spirit. From those first days, she'd shared with Madi two truths their people would be looking to her for: knowing her place in this changing world and knowing with whom she could live it. This would shape not only how they'd view their new allies in Nassau and the surrounding communities, but how much of their pasts they should take with them to fully realize this new freedom they'd fought for.

Answers for the first truth came with ease; the latter would depend on the conversation she intended to have right now.

As Madi watched Silver rise up, leaning heavily on his crutch, she remembered a different question from another moment at the crossroads. He'd asked her if it all ended and they had to walk away, would he be enough for her. Oh what must have been going through his mind then; and now as well. As he'd orchestrated, it had all, in fact, ended. For very different reasons, they'd, in fact, had to walk away.

Is this enough? Is he enough?

Reaching the clearing at the top of the hill, Madi paused. She didn't have to wait long for Silver to notice her presence. His face revealed a surge of heartbreaking emotion: shock, hope, indignation, fear. Every last one seemed appropriate.

The two lovers stared at each other as the waves crashed against the rocks.

 _TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was Madi who forged ahead, meeting Silver at the peak of the hill. If the situation weren't so tense, she'd find his rare moment of speechlessness amusing from one so reliant on his wits and words.

Silver's heart raced as Madi made her way towards him. He tried unsuccessfully to temper the anticipation that had started to grow. It warred with the fear that this visit was meant as a conclusion of some sort, one that he would not accept without a fight. Her expression was unreadable, so unlike the openness he'd come to know of her, especially when it was only the two of them together.

Blinking back his panic, Silver shifted his weight against the crutch under his arm. He fumbled for something to say, somewhere to begin. If his reading of her remained accurate, she seemed reluctant as well to give voice to whatever was to be between them in these moments ahead.

Calming himself, Silver's eyes softened on her. "Sit with me?" he asked, gesturing at the spot he'd just vacated.

Madi looked across the cliff to the beach below, the sea beyond, and the distant presence of Nassau. She nodded.

The two settled next to each other, not touching but not far. Silver set his crutch beside him, out of the way; Madi occupied herself with gathering her skirts beside her. God, he wanted to touch her. It had been weeks and he had never missed anything as much as he missed their easy intimacy in these moments of nearness. Sometimes he felt that he would combust at the deprivation of what had once been so natural between them. Yet he knew that caution needed to govern his actions lest he lose his chance to move forward. Lest he lose her forever.

Together they sat for several long moments, tense but not uncomfortable per se. Madi noted Silver's attention, filled with curiosity laced with restraint. She'd had so many imaginary conversations with him in her mind over the last month, some filled with accusations and angry retorts, others filled with tears and physical blows that he withstood. In some, she'd walk away from him, others, he'd tire of any penance and walk away from her. Often, she'd dwell on what could have been if they'd made different choices. Despite her anger and confusion, to ease the pain of his absence and her longing for him, in too many fantasies to count Silver said everything she thought she needed to hear from him to make things right once more. It didn't matter that the words sounded little like the man she knew, nor were they admissions she'd ever likely hear.

None of her musings had felt quite like this, though. And in the midst of his uncertainty, she knew she needed to be the one to begin this.

"I saw you die," she said finally. "Among the cannon fire and gunshots, I saw you struggle to escape the Walrus until what I most feared came to pass. I watched as you fell into the ocean, and I stared at the water around us, would not turn my eyes from it, even as we rowed away. I watched every body that floated to the surface, terrified I would discover you and terrified that I would not. Kofi had to hold me back from the urge I had to plunge into those waters to find you."

Silver sat quiet as she told him this. They'd had no time to talk of it, and what time they did reclaim was spent being damn thankful to have found each other once more, safe and whole.

"I waited on the beach for hours," she continued, staring out into the distance rather than facing him. "I did not think of what could have gone so wrong or the war to come, only that I needed you to come back to me. Boat after boat arrived with no signs of you. I recall that there were others around me: my own men, your men. Flint. Billy. I recall Flint's attempt to console me. At the time, I thought it a manipulation, but now I think his words could have meant many things at once." She closed her eyes at the pain of those memories. "I could think not of those other men in those moments, only of the last time we were together in my bed. That night, you told me where the treasure lay hidden and of Billy's plan to elevate you to the legend that you have now fulfilled. I remembered how you looked at me, how you cherished what we'd become to each other over those months; how I felt the same."

Her eyes closed as she tried to let the despair of that day roll off of her and wash out with the waves. No matter what happened in the next hour or days or years, that lover and partner sat next to her in the flesh, very much alive. In perverse fashion, her inner voice repeated his sentiment of being thankful that he had survived that day, even if only to end up at this broken point between them.

"It should not have been, the two of us; so different our lives and who we are. Yet, at that time, our union felt inevitable; something only the workings of fate could dictate. That day we lost you, as the beach cleared and we sought shelter for the night, I could not ignore that this fate now proved false. You were dead. All I had left was a crusade on the brink of collapse and the man I loved gone forever in the name of it. And gone with him was any trust I had that the men leading our alliance would not undermine me and the interests of my people for their own design."

Silver had not been able to take his eyes off her as she confessed these things to him, these never-before-heard truths that he'd had to push out of his mind until after everything had been said and done. She had yet to meet his gaze and it somehow made these revelations even more difficult to hear.

"Madi, I don't—"

"No. I have heard your words, now you will hear mine." Her tone held only a hint of harshness, but it was also definitive. Silver fell silent, urging her to continue; bracing himself for it.

"I did not know how we could see our plans through without you. But I could not bear to let it go, the promises I had made, the trust my mother – my people – placed in me to help usher in a better life lived in open freedom. So I swallowed my grief and the condescension of two men who could not see past their own pride to the objectives we all swore to achieve. I pressed on."

She smiled harshly, bitterly at that. "I first threw my support behind a man, Billy Bones, who never wavered from his view that my people, and me as their leader, are expendable. And when Flint proved himself willing to adapt, I negotiated with one who perceived me mostly as an ever-changing bargaining chip. Despite what you might think, I was under no illusions when it came to Flint, even as I came to understand those aspects of him that you most appreciated. I am not him either," she said, throwing Silver's own words back at him.

"And then you returned to me, solid and whole and in my arms. You were kissing me again, holding me again, for the world to see. You stood at my side as we carried out our plans to take Nassau and create that better world together. You declared to Billy, your brother and closest friend, before all of Nassau that I was most dear to you and that you would see me safe and respected. I took it as a sign that what we were doing was for something great. I let myself believe that it all could be mine: freedom for my people, new alliances to usher in a new world. A life lived openly with the man I loved to my core through death and separation."

Madi shook her head thinking of those emotions a few short weeks ago. "I was such a fool."

Seeing all of this play out in her expression made Silver turn away, his own feelings warring with the need to comfort her, to argue that those things were still real. A relentless urge to convince her that he had willed this reality so because he would not lose her to the angry, vengeful sickness that he'd seen flourish in the wake of their greater alliance churned in his soul. Deep down he'd always known that this commitment to violence would destroy so many around him, including Flint and Billy.

But he said nothing for being so stunned by the depth of the agony to her words.

Madi turned to him, noting his bowed head, he now the one unable to meet her eyes. "Before he died, my father made sure I remained wary of everyone but those in our own community. And on the eve of what I thought would be our victory, I told Eleanor that despite what she had meant to my family, my father mistrusted all of her kind and passed that mistrust on to me." She sighed and glanced away again, back out at the ocean. "I reasoned with myself why you were different. I fell in love with you on that belief. Yet you who I trusted and loved so easily despite these warnings were the one who betrayed me most deeply, if only because I foolishly would not let myself believe that such a betrayal was possible."

Lips pursed, she gripped her shawl more tightly around herself. "After everything, you returned home to me from Skeleton Island; kissed me; held me. All this you did before putting into motion your final plans to undermine everything I thought we had worked towards." As more of her explanation spilled out, her tone became harsher, louder, more accusatory, not that she'd meant to let such emotion take over. It was too late to stop. "And the first thing you say to me after it is done is that you are not sorry for it," she added bitterly.

Silver bristled at this. "I'm not sorry for my hand in ending Flint's war. I have admitted that candidly and the reasons why. That it hurt you, hurt us, I will regret for all of my days. That I sit here, and will continue to sit here, until we can reconcile this is proof of my atonement for that."

"And you think this is sufficient?" she challenged, her latent frustration with him and the audacity of his choices surfacing yet again.

"It is all I have. I can't bring back that war, and I wouldn't even if I could. I can't change what I've done, even as I regret that I could not have found a better way to act in concert with you. And I refuse to accept that these decisions were somehow made against you." Silver paused only long enough to indulge a strained laugh at the situation. "My god, Madi, you were all I could think about – separated from you and Flint and the crew; strung up by Hands like a goat to be skinned; shot at by Max and the British; undermined by men I used to call 'brother.'"

He stared intently at her as she sat tensely next to him, her profile so lovely in this light he couldn't help noticing. His eyes softened as he recalled that time during his "death" and his precious thoughts of her. However, his resolve remained as fixed as ever.

"All I could think about was saving myself so I could stand at your side. Taking back Nassau, Flint's war, your war, it was only with that in mind that I endured. And along the way, I discovered my own personal stake: that I could spend every night in your bed, and build a life with you, whether it was at the foot of revolution or in a one-room shelter on this island." Silver had not meant to let his passions free, but great was his desperation to get her to see, to understand. Although she would still not face him, if nothing else, Silver would have her hear this. "I am guilty of wanting that future and doing anything to get it, and no I will not apologize for it. Please, do not ask me to."

"So you admit you did this for yourself."

"Damn right I did. And for you. Flint too. For all of us."

"Even though it is not what I wanted. Who are you to decide for us?" Madi countered. "You find it convenient to forget that you knew your plans were against all that we were fighting for?"

"Was it, Madi? You want to talk of this? Maybe it is you that finds it convenient to forget that I was with you at the genesis of it all. Stood right in front of you, heard you well when you spoke of your people made free in the eyes of the law. Before Flint spoke of war or changing the world, there was your desire to see the continuation of families and your community left whole."

"Did you hear that desire before or after your words of making Britain fear us? Or was that more deception?" Madi realized the unfairness of this, but felt powerless to curb her stirred emotions. If Silver thought so too, he'd chosen to ignore it.

"And what is more terrifying than the threat you cannot see, that you unwittingly allow to grow until it is woven into the fabric of civilization?" he argued. "This island will thrive. Families will be kept together and continue their line. We can become a haven for those who would otherwise be under England's complete control. We can embed this into the very foundation of Nassau's story. And we can do this without the godforsaken blood and death and war that, to its ultimate conclusion, will make it all obsolete. We conquer by enduring."

"But for how long? Until our allies lose their stronghold?"

"For generations if we will it. Generations that we create and nurture. And maybe we endure until we help change the world." Silver shifted to more directly address her. "Yes, I rewrote the plans we devised together and thought of victory as something outside of the war we created. I did this for us, because I would meet our daughters and sons someday. I would guide them through that new world. We will. Together at each other's side."

Madi did not know how to respond to this: so angered by how flagrantly he'd cast their plans aside and justified them as some form of greater good; and also so overwhelmed by her love and the intensity of his love for her. As they had for weeks, her emotions battled each other, licks of devotion and frustration, snarling and snapping within her. She turned away from him.

"I did not come here to discuss this," she seethed.

"Then why the fuck did you, if not to make me feel worse about loving you enough to risk losing you to disappointment rather than death? To wanting you alive and hating me rather than dead and gone in a never-ending war?"

Instantly, he regretted his temper, powerless it seemed to moderate this latest attempt to get through to her. In moments like these, Silver missed the ability to pace. If he'd had that ability, he'd be on his feet and looping circles around her. Yet as frustrated as she made him, he would not pull away from this.

Madi fisted her shawl again and then forced herself to relax.

They both let the seconds accumulate in course silence. She had held no illusions of the difficulty to indulging this inevitable hashing out of terms. There were only a limited amount of options that could come of any attempt to air their feelings on the subject. She'd tried to prepare herself for whatever resolution or diversion resulted from this conversation. But no amount of preparation would have been adequate to make sense of this moment.

Finally Madi turned to Silver; steeled herself for whatever was to come of their situation.

"I came to tell you …" she began, swallowing several times, almost choking on the words she knew she needed to say to him. "I came to tell you that I understand."

Silver blinked in surprise. He had not been expecting that. Yet he knew it wasn't the whole story. Letting his shoulders drop, he looked away.

"But understanding is not forgiveness."

"No it is not. I do not believe I will ever find your choice acceptable and that rift cannot be undone."

They sat again without moving or reacting, letting the waves keep their vigil and angrily crash at their foundation again and again.

 _TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

When Madi had lowered herself to sit beside him, Silver had noticed the way she positioned herself with her usual grace, her legs pulled into her side and curled into herself. To anyone passing by, she'd seem just as regal as if she were holding court or maybe dispensing orders to her trusted guard. Silver feared that having said her peace, she was out of words, her denial of forgiveness a final edict on their circumstances. Yet she also seemed unable to leave. Such a fragile line they walked in this moment.

Madi raised her head and shook it as if rejecting a conversation she'd been having with herself. Silver sat perfectly still hoping she wouldn't leave, for as long as she remained at his side, he felt there was a chance to right this on a timetable that did not preclude all that he wanted with her in this life. She sighed and then extended her legs in front of her. Leaning back, she raised her head to the sun, eyes closed and taking in the muted warmth it projected. She seemed to open herself up, hold it only for a few beats, and then return her attention to him several moments later.

"Can I ask a question?" Madi said finally.

A sting at the request, as if they were at the point of asking permissions of each other that were formerly taken for granted. Taking the precariousness of their relationship into account, he would deny her nothing if he could help it.

"Of course. You can ask me anything."

Madi gathered her thoughts, unsure and fearful of where the conversation could go after her chosen words left her mouth.

"That day on the beach, when I returned from the Underhill estate, and you told me of Flint's bargain with our cache – what if I had opposed Flint's decision and agreed with you that our treasury was too important to risk? If I had instead insisted on finding another way to both save him and the cache, would you have told me about Savannah, about the plans you had set in motion?" Madi wondered if the man beside her felt the weight of the question, the weight of how the response would matter to the both of them.

Silver sat quietly, trying to find the right words to answer such a complex question. That entire time felt like a dream now, that period of a few days when every decision left their fates hanging in the balance.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "I know I wanted to share the burden. I so desperately wanted to. I also feared the rift that even introducing such a notion would cause. You're right that I remained fully aware of what our campaign meant to you. How could I not? And I wanted to give you every satisfaction you desired." It felt good to remember that pure motive to be and do everything he could for her and how powerful he felt knowing she'd believed in him so fiercely. But he released those past notions from his thoughts, knowing he had to face these consequences if they were to move forward. "I almost died for our cause several times over, and when I found you again and wiped away your tears; when I felt you tremble in my arms, it was then that I acknowledged I could not bear the thought of losing you. I was so fucking lucky, Madi"

He watched her movements and every breath she took for the smallest glimpse of a reaction, noting how her fingers incessantly pulled at her bracelet. The reminder of her nervous habits brought the briefest hint of a smile.

"Yes, Madi answered softly. "You were. We were. Do not mistake my frustration for ignorance of that."

Silver sighed. "I know." Everything between them now seemed too difficult, their words twisted and their memories of the last few weeks scrutinized before reforming into these things they both wish they'd understood for what they truly were at the time. "I'm sorry," he said, a simple admission for her fair assessment.

Crossing her ankles and returning her hands to her lap, Madi settled into contemplative silence once more. She tried not to notice how he examined the rise and fall of her chest, feeling self conscious about the small hitches in her breathing as she worried. Knowing him as she did, she saw how the uncertainty of their present state ate at him. Always the opportunist, she could practically feel the mechanics of his brilliant mind attempting to turn the odds of their encounter in his favor in the midst of the twists and turns to their conversation.

The weight of their distance clung to both of their spirits. Madi reflected that not long ago, she'd tease him for such physical distance, loving the way he'd gently take her hand when they were alone or seek her out with his eyes whenever they occupied the same room. And in the rare times when they could indulge each other most privately, the sensations and sounds he could wring from her body sustained her for days. It filled her musings with thoughts of how he pleased her so. That loss she felt keenly, trapped each night in her self-imposed solitude.

Madi, glanced at him, bit her lip and took a dramatic calming breath to prepare herself for this next step. She only had to summon the courage to do what must be done. Silver braced himself.

"There is nothing to forgive, John."

Silver turned sharply to her, shock and disbelief evident. His expression must have been as absurd as he felt in the moment, because she smiled with true humor. The memory of what that smile could mean to him snapped him back into the moment.

"Explain." He could muster only that one strangled word.

Madi met his surprised gaze squarely, surely. It ignited his hope. "We fell so fast, you and I. The story of it is what neither of us expected I believe: the handsome stranger and the captor's daughter." With relief, he noticed that her expression had lost some of the coldness that had haunted him since those last words to each other in her quarters.

This now made Silver smile, cautiously but genuinely. "More like the princess and the pirate scoundrel." That got another slight smirk from her. Silver basked in its warm as if the first tastes of rum on his tongue after a weary day.

That they had so much ready affection to fall back on lifted his spirits. Too often his thoughts had turned dark, fighting speculations of what his life would be like if Madi refused him. He'd tortured himself wondering if he'd have to watch her pull away, maybe even marry someone else. Even now, he had to force himself to stay in the moment, one in which she temporarily sat at his side once more.

Madi let her smile fade, lost in thought, but only briefly. "Your relationship with Flint seemed so hard-fought, but ours blossomed so easily and completely. It may not have been an instant trust, but I felt connected to you from those first days."

"And I you," Silver added.

"I know," came her soft, sober response as she accepted the sincerity of his admission. "And we did not question this connection. We simply let it comfort us, this one mind of ours that grew and flourished. It became part of us, so deeply in our hearts that perhaps we didn't realize it required a nurturing that we took for granted. Such arrogance to be content to revel in what could not be so easy or so lasting."

Madi scraped her fingers absently across the grassy patch at her sides. "All these weeks, I have been so angry thinking of the decisions you alone made that had such deep consequences for so many people. And you did so by betraying your captain and betraying me."

"I told you, I didn't see it as a betrayal," Silver interjected softly. "I understand why you do, but it's not how I view my actions."

Madi frowned. "You have said this. I know this. Yet it does not change what I feel. It does not change the hurt when I thought you had killed your friend, your 'true friend,' in your words." She chuckled humorlessly. "It took the two of you suffering strife and adversity and tragedy together to forge a friendship that you tossed about and wrangled with until you finally accepted its purpose in your lives. And you spent weeks upon weeks convincing me to adopt this trust as well. It took you dying for me to truly believe in it and for Flint to accept my counsel. We put whatever we believed in the past aside to build a future we thought you had sacrificed yourself for."

Madi turned to him. "I was angry because you cultivated this in us and then threw it away to serve this new agenda. With Flint, such was the nature of your volatile relationship. But with me…" She squeezed her eyes shut, lips pursed before unclenching. As irrational as it felt, even talking of this reignited the fear of every whisper she'd heard, every doubt that she would be left broken when Silver inevitably left her when his whimsy found her expendable.

"I—" Madi took another deep breath.

It took all Silver had to wait for her to speak and not grasp her by the shoulders and shout again about how he'd done this for her.

Another several breaths and her calm began to return. "I'm not explaining this as I should," she said, almost to herself.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. Not ever, he wanted to add, but didn't.

"I truly do not want to be hurtful, but I know this is how it sounds. Perhaps this would be easier if I only tell of my heart and not what I assume of yours."

Silver did not know what to make of this, but stood willing to go along if it helped them both understand this impasse. "Whatever you need to do. I'll listen. I promise."

She paused for another calming inhale and exhale. "Remember when you and I stood watch on the deck of the Walrus after averting a crisis between our men?"

Silver nodded. He'd learned so much from her that day, maybe had even fallen in love with her then if he'd cared to analyze it. This young woman had shown him more about strength and leadership and loyalty than anyone in all of his days. It had almost pained him to take his eyes off of her as she'd explained to him how she'd averted a disaster by sheer force of will.

"I told you of that something in me rising up, clawing for vengeance and retribution. Demanding justice from those I'd felt had done wrong. When I came back from the Underhill Estate after learning the results of Billy's actions for the slaves on the island, I felt that rage once more. I heard that voice that said that someone must pay for the safety of my people so carelessly tossed aside. I returned to you still feeling those things. And I continued to feel those things even in chains and with your life, my mother's life, and all those on this island hanging in the balance. For I saw no civilization that would allow such men to rule."

Madi's voice gained strength as she became surer of sharing her journey and maybe revealing why they'd strayed so far from each other. "That day as I made my way back to Nassau, all I could think the entire journey was that Billy was responsible and that he had shaped his fate by dismissing my interests and that of the slaves whose assistance was vital to our victory. And I felt a burning need to see that victory come to pass, no matter the cost, to show men like Billy and Woodes Rogers and all those who would resist that their ways were no more."

Even talking about that time brought those emotions to the fore for Madi. There had been no walking her back from that anger.

In her words, Silver recalled again his own desire to watch the world burn when he'd thought he'd lost her.

In reality, they both now understand how this world could make anyone create their own version of Captain Flint when the cruelties became more than could be borne by reasonable beings.

"I knew that Billy would not honor Flint's promises to my mother," she further explained. "And I saw from my first night in Nassau that he'd been blinded by his need to separate you from Flint, no matter the cost. Yet, I did not tell you this when I made my demand to you that Billy would have to be removed. In my mind, I did not need to explain. We were connected, and even as I knew it would be difficult for you, I expected you to the do what I thought must be done. For _you_ to do the hard thing."

Once again, Madi nervously fiddled with her bracelet. "So while you did not share with me your knowledge of Savannah and the plans that followed, neither did I share my new resolve with you. I realize now that when we quarreled, our interests had already diverged, and we'd both stayed silent."

Madi bit at her bottom lip in frustration, shaking her head at every decision and mistake they'd made to get to this point. "I was not trying to force your hand with Billy, but it is what I did. And maybe you turned on Billy because he did not fit into your alternative plans. Or maybe you turned on Billy because he planned to betray me and Flint first." Silver opened his mouth to respond. "The answer is not important," she added.

"It is to me," Silver replied without hesitation. "Because Billy was once my friend. But in the end, he respected nothing save what satisfied his own vengeance for Flint. That he targeted Flint came as no surprise and ultimately he himself forced my hand in asking me to betray our captain." Silver's hands had clenched into fists at the thought of the former first mate. "But his most egregious mistake was that he should have never let your name slip from his tongue. That he likely died at sea is a gift, because if I should come across him again in this life, I'll surely end it for his hand in almost losing you."

If he'd dared to look over at Madi, he would have noticed how her expression softened just a touch, how her fingers twitched to reach for him, before she clasped them tightly in her lap.

Instead, she said, "So many chances for other options to have come to pass. When I look back, it's that moment that became a turning point and instead of walking together as one, we made different choices."

He could not disagree with that assessment, as hard as it felt to admit. He did not care to think on that time when he'd almost broken under the weight of the responsibilities placed on him: Flint, Billy, and Madi expecting him to do what in their singular minds constituted "the right thing." Ultimately, he'd vowed to put a plan in motion of his own design rather than the ones forced upon him. And she was right. That is when everything changed between them.

 _TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Madi drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, folding into herself. "I told you of my father's last words to me, but I've never told you of our last true conversation." Silver's expression turned confused. "This was while you were convalescing, following Fremah's treatment. It was late. After I had sat with you to ensure your recovery and you finally let yourself rest deeply, I went to visit my father."

"From sickbed to sickbed," Silver recalled, wondering what she meant to share.

She smiled sadly. "Yes. A long night. I remained awake for many hours with thoughts of these new men in my life: you, Flint, even my father."

Silver's brow furrowed. "What did your father say to you that night?"

Madi took several long breaths to steady her heavy heart when talking of the father she barely knew in the flesh, even if he'd left his stamp on her in so many other ways.

"I was having second thoughts after what you'd revealed of your and Flint's relationship. He pressed me to carry on for the benefit of our people and what he had worked so hard to secure for us. But he warned me of the need to manage you and Flint and to make sure that you never saw our people as enemies. He said to guide your focus toward the true villain in England and Woodes Rogers; never give cause for either you or Flint to separate your interests from mine or all would be lost."

It did not take much more explanation for Silver's resentment to begin to stir. His doubt. "So when you ordered your man to keep quiet about Dobbs, it wasn't just about fighting your own instincts in the name of holding our alliance together—"

"It was also about suppressing resentment toward my people so that you would not be forced to see us as an enemy."

Until now, he'd mostly viewed that time together as a symbol of when they'd started to become true partners, both in their alliance and to each other. To hear that it meant something different than what he'd been led to believe left him confounded.

"My father understood the power of narrative. It's why he sent so many books to me in his absence. He wanted me to know the minds of victors so I could best defeat them when the time came. I could not let the narrative of our war be turned against my people. And like you, I am not sorry for my actions to prevent that."

Madi forced herself to take in Silver's strained expression, his body gone impossibly still as he turned her words over in his mind. Finally he blinked and turned towards her. "Did you—"

"This is not why I became close to you." She sighed. "It had already begun. I did not fetch Fremah and stay with you throughout your treatment and recovery because of words I had yet to hear. Yet I don't deny that it was one of my excuses. It allowed me to give myself permission to seek you out and long for your company. It became a convenient justification for why I chose to avoid a violent outcome after I saw what had been done to one who I loved and had sworn to protect. My choices could not be construed as preferring this charming stranger, this pirate because of the way I felt when he looked at me. Instead, I could tell myself that, no, I was keeping in your good esteem so as not to stoke resentment."

"I see," Silver said. A knot had formed in the pit of his stomach, a new tightness in his heart. God, all that time he'd thought…

"Did I not do this to secure the essence of what we both wanted in our alliance? Was my fondness for you less genuine, my intentions too conflicted because it served this dual purpose?" A wry grin pulled at Silver's lips as he realized the significance of her admission. She matched his mirth at recognizing that understanding. "It took me much longer to make the connection than for you just now."

"I wondered how it was that your father didn't warn you away from me, even from his sickbed. With Flint, I understand strategically the endorsement. But me?" he laughed lightly. "I did not know your father well, but I cannot imagine he'd want me anywhere near his daughter. Hell, I took his job aboard Flint's ship; drew Eleanor Gutherie further into Flint's machinations against your father's best judgment."

He bent his good leg and rested his arm against it, a more casual stance than he felt at the moment. "If your intent was as your father dictated to keep Flint and I of the same mind, even partially, I'm afraid I'd have to mark you quite poorly on execution." Silver said, turning his face aside against the wind. "As you've admitted yourself, I do not recall a time in those days that you were not warning me about Flint, concerned for me after the things I revealed to you. No, you tolerated him for me and for the ends of it; anything else you would have none of."

"It's quite simple, really. The more my love for you grew, and the more I saw and heard of Flint's pull on you, the more I feared I'd lose you to it. I feared I could not be a strong enough tether." She shook her head. "Flint was yours first, but it took only a short time before I knew I wanted to be your everything."

Silver coughed out a laugh. "Now on that execution, I'd mark you as damn near perfect." He implored her to look at him with that intense gaze of his, but then offered her a warm smile.

Madi bit her lip again, this time fighting a grin of her own, letting the moment linger between them. The memory of that simple love pleased her. No one could convince either that these recollections of their past passion and regard were anything but utterly sincere.

She bowed her head and sighed. "I told my mother and anyone else who'd question our relationship that I kept you close because you were more useful to me as an ally. I said this even as my mind wandered to you or my eyes sought you out hoping for a moment of your attention."

Silver nodded, well aware of what that pull felt like as he'd experienced it many times for her in those months.

"And I told myself that your regard proved the success of my efforts to heed my father's warnings." She turned to him, seeing that he already watched her as she spoke. "But the truth of it is that I truly saw who you were, even after being told of your reputation from the tales my men heard while on your ship. And it was this trust, not what my father or anyone else said, that guided my support for you to my mother and our people."

"I hope she's warmed to me since then."

"She has," Madi replied. "You mourned and honored me with her, even though you also confirmed what she'd suspected between us and of which she disapproved." She turned to him, "You never told her that you trusted me with the knowledge of the cache before we set sail for Nassau."

"No. I guess it just never came up," he mused.

"She knew." Madi hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. "Kofi told her."

"Did he?" Silver asked, surprised.

"He warmed to you too." Madi smiled sadly thinking of her lost friend. "I had not expected the disclosure, nor did I require such a thing from you to secure my loyalty. But I finally admitted to myself then that a life with you on the other side of our war could be possible. That this unexpected love could make it so."

Something warm, yet bittersweet settled inside Silver at hearing that. It made their current circumstance feel even more like a crossroads.

"While you withheld much from me during our time on Nassau, you did not lie to me. That I would never forgive." Those words she said while looking directly into his eyes, earnestness and warning both openly revealed to him.

"I would not," he replied carefully lest she see something in his words to counter the truth of it. "I have used my way with words to survive and manipulate and turn things towards my favor. That weapon I would not use on you. I do not deserve your love if I needed to." He stretched his leg out again. "As close as Flint and I were, he never did understand that about us. For all his brilliance and intuition, he could not conceive of a draw more powerful than the motivations he chose to frame for me. He thinks I'll regret my choices, but I cannot conceive of a scenario where a life with you is not exactly how I'm most fated to spend my days. And if one day I find myself back at sea, it won't be out of dissatisfaction for that. I am most sure of my mind on this."

Madi stared at him as Silver moved his gaze back toward the sea. There is so much about his life that he had not shared with her, although he'd told her more than possibly anyone else before. She'd brushed off any inclination to assign importance to this knowledge. But despite his insistence that his past did not matter, sometimes she felt as if it would make him feel better to be known.

Yesterday as her resolve crumbled and she'd resigned herself to this conversation with John. She recalled one sunrise, shortly before their campaign on Nassau, when neither could sleep and they both stood on the deck of the Walrus watching the quiet goings on of the crew at dawn. They'd spoken nothing of consequence, just easy conversation about this or that. At one point, he'd said to her, 'you have to know when to hold onto things;' said it in as offhand a manner as if he'd commented on the moon's brightness or the sparseness of the crew. But he'd briefly taken her hand, squeezed, and then went back to his common commentary of the day. He'd been smiling to himself as he'd let that thought linger between them.

His words had become a mantra to feed her determination: You have to know when to hold onto things.

Of all her talk of signs and fates and causes, how many times had this message been delivered to her? How many times had she ignored it in favor of the greater cause of freedom for her people? Her mother had spoken of it and then stood strong as her greatest fear came to pass: violence on her doorstep and her only child in chains. It resonated in every physical and emotional comfort her mother gave her now. Ruth had spoken of it and then watched yet another home burn before giving way to a freedom she never thought possible, and would probably never truly trust. Eleanor had spoken of it, her last words to Madi before she was murdered. Bleeding and defiant, until the end she failed to believe her beloved husband could be the instigator of something so foreign to her hopes and desires for their life together. Even Woodes Rogers spoke of it, although his words were proof that this ideal could be weaponized in the cruelest of ways.

And John. A man who seemed not to have held onto much of anything in his life, had held tight to her. Vowed in a sense never to let her go.

No, it had not been for Silver alone to decide the fates of so many. And perhaps the crown was too heavy a burden for her or her parents to bear solely. Maybe their lives were meant for something in between; something that allowed them to hold each other dear and change the world as one mighty force.

Silver watched Madi sat next to him, eyes adrift, the breeze tossing her hair about. Every part of him yearned to hold her. His heart dared to hope that their conversation meant that he would be able to do so again soon, even if not today. His thoughts raced with imagining that her current and future desires lead to him. Yet his years living in a world that he knew to be more cruel than kind braced him for the sting of disappointment and the preparation for his forever in her orbit, no matter how long it took for her to welcome it.

Madi reached over for Silver's hand and held it firmly. Something resembling a strangled gasp from her lover whispered against her ear. Yet he wasted no time intertwining their fingers as if he intended to meld them into one.

"I would have proudly sacrificed myself in our war to secure a better life for my people. And for yours, because I know that was important to you, too. To the end of my days, I will believe in what we hoped to accomplish."

Focusing on her words, Silver tried not to squeeze her hand too tightly, fear of her pulling away from him rising up in his chest. He brushed her bare fingers, the ones that used to bear the rings he'd chosen for her, had slid on himself the night before that final voyage to Nassau began. It was so she could look like a 'proper pirate,' he'd told her at the time, though they both knew it for what it was. A promise. Rogers men must have taken them from her. Civilized? Time and again they proved more the barbarian than any of them.

He vowed that, if given the chance, he'd replace them. Only next time, time he'd declare his promises to her plainly and to the world.

A pause before she found her voice once more. "I will also remember that I did not plan to die in such a noble manner," she said, smiling sadly. "I planned for victory and the spoils that allowed a true life for all those under my care and others like us that we could help. I planned to do so with you by my side."

At that, Silver did squeeze her hand in his and covered their joined fingers with his other hand at the idea of such a premonition. Funny. When Flint had said this, Silver had thought it another of his manipulations. He'd never intended to rule beside Madi, content to watch her rule as she saw fit. Yet when she said such things to him now, it stirred a deep ambition and anticipation of what that they could accomplish together.

"The war has gone away, John. Many things have changed for both of us. I am still here. We are. We were always enough."

John's cascade of relief seemed tangible both to him and the woman beside him. He closed his eyes, brought their joined hands to his lips and held them there.

"Please, say it again, my love."

He heard her movement, felt the warmth of her closer to him. When he opened his eyes, he caught the descent of her head to his shoulder as she curled into his side. It felt like yesterday and tomorrow and forever.

"You are enough for me, John Silver," she murmured. "And I would like to meet our sons and daughters as well."

John kissed her fingers again and returned them to his lap. He released one of his hands, and moved his arm to embrace her fully, fearing the fragility of their connection, and the desire to fortify it in steel and gold and all the love of which he was capable.

They sat there silent and content, knowing that this symbolized only the first step in a long journey of rediscovery. They would need to learn how to love in this new world Silver had ushered in, and not the easy pure love of their courtship, but the complex intricate love of true partners. The sun grew lower and lower in the sky, the wind gusted, the waves thundered, yet they did not release one another.

In those long moments together, they accepted that they would not return to this spot for some time, this gateway to Nassau that held so many memories of what could have been.

Finally, Silver kissed her softly on the crown of her head resting against his shoulder, and he began the process of slowing rising to his feet. Madi followed fixing her skirts and pulling her shawl more tightly around her. With one last look, Silver followed Madi down the hill, to their home.

They had a life to build and their future awaited them.

 _End_


End file.
